This is the Way You'll Remember Me
by Hoodies and Computers
Summary: Inspired by Pride and Prejudice. "It is a truth universally acknowledged that no one touched or breathed the same air as Felicity Smoak's computer, unless it is Felicity Smoak herself." Girl meets boy, girl dislikes boy. Boy meets girl, boy starts to like girl. We all know the story, right? Olicity, Modern AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This has been a long time coming! It's my first multi-chapter Olicity fic, so bear with me. :) Like I said, the story is inspired by P&P, so things will be different. I also want to thank Nocturnalrites and awriterincowboyboots (on Tumblr) for being tremendously helpful during this process. You two are amazing! **

******Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and any other mistakes are made by me. :D**

* * *

It is a truth universally acknowledged that no one touched or breathed the same air as Felicity Smoak's computer, unless it is Felicity Smoak herself.

However, it's a truth only a few people know about, and when she comes back to her apartment only to find her laptop on, she's livid. Perhaps not exactly livid – it's more of a panic inducing moment followed by extreme nervousness and rage, coupled with an irrational fear of the computer running away and trampling over her, most likely stemmed from her kangaroo phobia.

Regardless, it's her computer and unfortunately her roommate, Laurel Lance, _clearly_ forgot how much it means to her. Her baby is more important than food and sex, providing her such comfort and intense feelings she knows no dish or man can ever give her. Nothing could compare to how safe and dangerous she feels with her trusty laptop on hand, and Laurel's body hovering over it absolutely terrifies her.

"Sorry!" Laurel exclaims, softly shutting the lid and flopping back on their shared sofa, a look of innocence plastered on her face. "It's – I left my charger at Starbucks, and I had to apply for jobs, and I thought I could maybe guess your password?" She sighs and collapses on the couch, warily looking at Felicity. "Please don't be mad."

"Oh, I'm not mad." Felicity steps forward and dumps her house key on the table, slowly inching towards her computer and snatching it away as fast as she can. Hugging it close to her chest, she eyes Laurel and points a finger at her. "This is your first and only warning."

Laurel rolls her eyes and smiles as she raises her right hand and promises, "This will be the one and only time I'll touch it."

Felicity sighs in relief and sits next to Laurel, the couch dipping from their combined weight. She opens the lid and quickly types her password, asking, "Still haven't heard anything?"

"No," Laurel groans. She covers her face with her hands and sighs loudly. "I never thought I would be an unemployed lawyer for eight months."

"They don't know a good lawyer when they see one," Felicity reassures her.

Laurel scoffs. "I wish that was the case.

A grin creeps up on Felicity's lips once she relaxes on the couch. As she begins surfing the Web, she can't help but reminisce about their time spent together. It's been nearly six years since they've met – Felicity was a simple nerdy MIT girl who chanced upon a cool group of kids who had friends at Boston University, one of which was named Laurel Lance. They didn't start off as friends, but as they got to know one another their friendship solidified into something much better, and here they stand, living a decent life together in Starling City.

Felicity's grown quite close to Laurel's family, the Lances; Laurel tends to have a big sister complex surrounding her, and she took her under wing. Laurel's father, Quentin, is loud and caring, an extreme softie when it comes to his daughters, while his wife, Dinah Lance, is a refined and polished lady, her warm hugs reminding Felicity of the mother she could've had. Laurel's little sister, Sara, is an absolute firecracker, always getting into trouble but continuously providing laughs.

They've made her feel like she's a part of the family, and for that she's forever grateful. There are times when she feels she's imposing on their shared moments, but they always make a point to include her, no matter how awkward it makes for her. She's slowly coming to accept this is going to be her life now, and it makes her happy in all the ways she never thought possible.

As for Laurel, she's the confident and friend, dragging Felicity along to parties and networking meetings whenever they have the chance. When it comes to these two there's no backing down from anything, a sentiment they share. It feels good having someone on her side, and the emptiness Felicity had grown accustomed to dissipates as she spends more time with Laurel.

Currently, Felicity works as a computer consultant at Queen Consolidated, traveling often and visiting QC's various branches in different cities and countries, advising and teaching its employees how to use the programs she and her team designed. The gig pays well, and she's happy with her current situation. Her skills made her climb the ranks in a short amount of years, and by next year she might get another promotion, one which may bring her salary up to six figures. There aren't many things Felicity's proud of, but this is one of them.

Life is . . . good.

"Hey, I brought snacks from home. Do you want anything?" Laurel asks. She hops over to the kitchen and produces Twinkies and brownies, laying them out on the counter. "If you don't, I'll eat them myself. I'm always hungry."

Without thinking, Felicity stands up and softly pads over to the small kitchen. She watches Laurel apprehensively – the lack of job prospects was getting to her best friend. She could see the frustration clouding Laurel, but as of late it was turning into resignation. More often than not Felicity found several snacks and movies littered about in their apartment, a sad reminder of all that hard work Laurel did, slowly withering away.

Taking the brownie box and loudly ripping it open, Felicity glances up at Laurel and probes, "What movies did you watch today?" She shoves a brownie in her mouth, the thick chocolate making it difficult for her to chomp down and swallow_. Jesus._

Humming and breaking a piece of her Twinkie, she tips her head to side and contemplates. "I was planning on watching 80's movies I've never seen, but then I thought I should start watching Breaking Bad." She pops the piece in her mouth and chews loudly, her head still in deep thought. "_Then_ I realized it would make me want to change career paths and be a DEA agent, so I started watching Law & Order." Almost immediately her nose wrinkles in distaste, and she drops the Twinkie on the counter, sighing. "But it made me sad."

Felicity slows down on her chewing and eyes Laurel, unsure of how to continue on the conversation. She doesn't want to tell her she went to the HR department and asked if they were hiring any lawyers. Cindy, the HR supervisor, was happy about the suggestion, but once Felicity showed her a picture of Laurel, Cindy brushed her aside and said she was "too pretty."

Shrugging, Felicity takes another bite from her brownie and suggests, "Maybe you should stick with Dora the Explorer."

"Ha ha," Laurel responds, certainly not amused. "What should I do? I passed my bar _eight_ months ago, and I haven't heard back from anyone." Throwing her hands in the air she dramatically adds, "What did I ever do to deserve this punishment?"

Desperately trying to hold back her tongue, Felicity closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. There are some . . . tendencies Laurel displayed, and it didn't bode too well with her. Felicity grew up in bad circumstances, fighting tooth and nail to get here. She hardly complained – she's beyond grateful for the way things turned out, but Laurel dealt with different conditions. Her best friend didn't have _everything _handed to her, but she occasionally felt she was the victim, when in fact it was reality catching up to her. Still, she chooses not to say anything, knowing it would make matters worse. Besides, Felicity couldn't stand Laurel moping around.

Suddenly feeling tired, Felicity kicks off her heels and stretches her back, ignoring Laurel's reflections. "I'm going to take a nap. See you in a couple of hours." She doesn't miss Laurel rolling her eyes at her flimsy excuse.

She turns and heads for the bedroom, not paying Laurel any attention. "When you wake, you'll know where to find me!" Felicity hears.

Groaning and absolutely not prepared to listen to Laurel's wallowing, she yells back, "Cool! Save me a spot!"

"Sure thing! Right next to me on the couch!"

* * *

"Did you hear about Mr. Queen's son visiting QC?"

Yawning and glancing up from her glasses, Felicity questions, "What about his son?"

McKenna Lucas, the department's secretary, clicks her tongue and leans on the desk, getting ready to spill the gossip. "He's coming back after a five year stint in Hong Kong and Moscow." Sticking a piece of gum in her mouth she adds, "Some say he's reformed himself after his father died, and he is quite the catch." She raises an eyebrow. "Plus he's got his eyes set on the CFO position, so he's going to be even _more_ loaded."

Snorting, Felicity says, "Good looking or not, I still remember when he peed on a cop car and made the headlines every single day." She leans back in her chair and muses, "You know, I kind of miss those days. Oliver Queen's antics made watching TMZ surprisingly fun."

"_You're _no fun," McKenna admonishes. She shrugs and glances at Felicity's calendar before asking, "Hey, weren't you and Laurel planning a vacation next week?"

Felicity sighs and spins in her chair before responding. "Well, I have to head out to Metropolis in two months, and Laurel's being . . ."

"Annoying?"

Guilt courses through her, because yes, Laurel_ could_ be annoying. Not bad annoying but older sister annoying. While it could be endearing, as of late it's turned into a nuisance. Laurel needs someone to vent to – which Felicity doesn't mind – but she's not equipped to handle emotional issues that don't deal with drunken mothers and money problems. What's going on with Laurel is tame compared to a multitude of other things. Still, she doesn't want to spend her limited time in Starling City getting frustrated for something as silly as this.

Nervous and unwilling to admit she feels that way, Felicity chews on her lip and waits. McKenna eyes her carefully and slightly judgmentally, her exotic facial features smoothing over and getting ready to call her out. Giving up, Felicity exhales and groans. "Does it make me a bad person if I _do_ find her annoying? She wasn't always like this. And I get why she's feeling this way – she worked nonstop at a nonprofit place with no law degree, and now that she's an actual lawyer no one wants to hire her." Felicity taps her foot for a moment and muses, "I did tell her to get into IT. People are always hiring computer nerds."

"Please, after seeing how much you work on your computers and the endless hours dedicated to having no social life?" Felicity's brows furrow at McKenna's statement. "I'll stick with my secretary job, thank you very much."

"Fine," she retorts childishly. McKenna smiles knowingly and Felicity continues, "I'll stick with my totally awesome job where I got to live in Singapore for five months."

"Oh, _now_ you're showing off."

Sniggering, Felicity raises an invisible glass and exclaims, "Can't help it!"

McKenna chuckles heartedly and adds, "And no, it doesn't make you bad person if you feel that way about Laurel. Sometimes . . . things change, and we can't help it."

Her happy mood suddenly disappears. "Yeah. Thanks, McKenna." The secretary smiles fondly, tapping on the door before leaving. For some reason Felicity starts to feel uneasy about something that has yet to come, and she's not prepared for what's to come.

* * *

It's eight in the evening, and during this time Felicity prefers to stay indoors, curled up with a bottle of wine and ice cream. Tonight, however, Laurel is insistent they, McKenna, and another friend – Jessica – go out. At the present Laurel is completely dressed whereas Felicity lounges on the sofa.

She doesn't want to go. At all. She would rather talk through the night or do something silly, not get buzzed and spend an hour dressing up for no one. Going to the clubs was – is – never her thing, because more often than not Felicity spends the rest of the night clutching a porcelain throne in the most glorious manner.

Right now Laurel's not taking her excuses, and as she tugs on Felicity's arm she finds herself giving in.

"Please?" Laurel quits and towers over Felicity, her heels digging holes in their carpet as her hands rest on her hips. "You're always traveling, and when you're here you're tired."

"I know," Felicity moans. "It's just – I feel I'm too old for that . . . stuff," she finishes, waving her hand in a dismissive manner. Clubbing is so juvenile.

Laurel gasps. "_I'm_ twenty-eight – does that make me old?"

"No, not at all," she responds awkwardly. Her friend clicks her tongue in irritation, still waiting for Felicity to get up. "Can we just make a fort and have a sleepover instead?" Wishful thinking at its finest.

Scoffing, Laurel lunges for Felicity and pulls her up. She yelps at the sudden movement and cries, "Ow, my arm!"

"Who cares?" Laurel snaps. She's got Felicity all the way up, and once Laurel starts pushing her to walk forward, Felicity retaliates by putting no pressure and collapsing in her arms. "Ugh, Felicity!" Laurel huffs behind. She giggles at her childish act.

"You told me to get up, and now I'm up." Felicity steps back; she's standing on her own now. Turning around and facing Laurel, she places her hands on her shoulders and deadpans, "Pushing me into the bathroom won't work."

Laurel swipes Felicity's hands off and crosses her arms. Whatever eye shadow Laurel carefully put on glitters under artificial light, and Felicity suddenly feels terrible she's being moody. "I may be twenty-eight, but you're acting like a twelve year old." Something flickers across Laurel's face, and her lips turn upward, forming a devilish grin. "Besides, when was the last time you slept with someone?"

Visibly balking at her statement, Felicity sputters out, "OK, that is a very inappropriate question!" There was no way in hell Felicity was going to tell her how nonexistent her love life was. The least she can do is embellish it.

Clearing her throat and sticking her head up in defiance, Felicity lies, "And I have had sex. With foreign men. Lots of them. Bearded, not bearded, short and tall. All _kinds_ of foreign men."

"Really."

"Really. " Laurel's not convinced. "Maybe I would rather go clubbing where the men are well-behaved and handsome, not gross and American." She stops for a moment, unaware of how truthful that statement is.

Groaning at Felicity's excuse, Laurel states, "That is some serious bullshit, Felicity." Out of nowhere, Laurel nearly stomps her foot and cries, "Look, if you had a social life, then I wouldn't have asked! C'mon Smoaky, just once. Please?"

Hearing Laurel plead breaks her. Quite frankly, there's no reason for her _not_ to go, and truth be told she does want to get slightly drunk. Work has been tiring and time-consuming for Felicity, and the least she can do is hangout with her roommate and friend.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity acquiesces and says, "Fine. " Laurel squeals in delight, but before she can drag Felicity in her room, she warns, "You win this round, but I won't be easily swayed next time."

"Yeah, whatever."

Loud music pumps through the club, creating a massive headache for Felicity, which will only get worse once she starts drinking. She, McKenna, Laurel and Jessica have been sitting in a booth for the past forty-five minutes, idly chatting and avoiding dancing altogether. Felicity would do anything to prevent random strangers press their pelvis against her body without permission, and that means drinking martinis while sitting down.

Seeing that it's a Friday night the club is packed, the air humid and a cacophony of drunken laughter and techno music floating about. Felicity sighs and leans back on the booth, incredibly uninterested. Sensing her boredom, McKenna smiles and questions, "How's the project coming along?"

Shrugging, Felicity responds, "It's a bit difficult. We're trying to reinvent how credit card information goes through an entire system, and basically we're starting from scratch." McKenna politely nods her head as Felicity rambles on. "The team is trying to create a new channel to put all that information through, and if we don't figure it out, someone else will." Suddenly self-conscious about her rambling, Felicity blushes and waves it off. "Sorry, I just get excited when I talk about it. And it's been hard."

"Don't apologize!" McKenna takes a sip from her daiquiri and smiles affectionately. "I like that you're passionate about your job." Inhaling deeply and relaxing on the booth, she adds, "I started working at QC when I was twenty, and here I am at twenty-seven. I've seen more men in that department than I have in my lifetime. It's about time a woman as smart as you shakes things up."

Warmth blossoms inside Felicity's chest and she grins, feeling proud. "Thanks. Now if guys would stop getting intimidated by my wealth of knowledge . . ."

McKenna scoffs loudly. "Boys are so immature. Don't waste your time on those who can't handle someone as wonderful as you."

"I second that," quips Laurel. She scoots closer towards Felicity, Jessica in tow. Smiling brightly, she wraps an arm around Felicity's neck and begs, "Now that we agree men are stupid, what do you think about getting on the dance floor?"

"Uh, no." The moment she finishes saying it, all three women protest loudly, begging her to come along. At one point both Laurel and Jessica are pulling her arms, and when she can't take it any more Felicity finally relents. "OK, OK I'll go!"

"Yes!" Laurel exclaims. All four of them head out to the dance floor, and before long Felicity finds herself dancing along absentmindedly, moving to the rhythm and laughing as she does so. It feels good to finally let go, and despite her pumps pinching on her toes Felicity succumbs to the sensations.

She doesn't know how long it's been, but eventually she tires and decides more alcohol will help. "I'm going to the bar. Anyone want something?"

"Ooh, I do!" Jessica replies. She steps away from Laurel's clutches, and grabs onto Felicity's arm, leaning in close to her ear. "At the rate Laurel's going, she's going to be super wasted. I haven't seen her like this in a long time," she notes. A brief flicker of anxiousness gets to Felicity, but once she turns around and finds Laurel safely dancing with McKenna she calms down just a bit. There's no need to worry.

Felicity chooses not to respond and instead leads the way, dragging Jessica with her. "So, how's work for you?" A large man bumps into her and fails to apologize. "Rude," she mutters under her breath.

"Huh?" Jessica yells back. A man suddenly distracts her friend with his good looks, and Felicity does her best to yank Jessica away. "What were you saying?"

Felicity repeats, "How's work?" Talking in clubs could be such a nuisance, and for some reason there's a lot of traffic around the bar. "It's impossible to walk here," she notes.

Jessica nods in agreement. "There are a lot of people bunched over on the right. " Felicity stops walking so she can get a look, and at the same time Jessica cranes her neck upward, sneaking a peek.

"Do you see a place where we can walk through without getting pushed over?"

She shakes her head. "Not at the moment, no." Jessica places a hand on Felicity's arm, halting her steps. "Seems like people are surrounding a couple of guys. Might be famous, " she observes while standing on her tiptoes.

Thankful for her five-inch heels, Felicity follows suit, and sure enough she finds two handsome flocked by a plethora of women. "Or maybe it's their inhumanly good looks that's garnering a lot of attention," Felicity says drily. She's about ready to make another run for the bar when Jessica suddenly gasps in excitement. "What is it?"

Her friend is apparently too busy to respond, but when Felicity asks again Jessica excitedly tells her, "It's Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn!"

"Am I supposed to find this interesting?" She _would_ be lying if she isn't a little bit curious, but she's not going to waste her time waiting around to see if she can get a glance. Now that Felicity's developed a healthy buzz, dancing seems to be a fairly good option as opposed to clamoring around Tommy and Oliver.

Jessica playfully pushes Felicity and gushes, "No one's seen Oliver in five years, and Tommy is absolutely adorable." Jessica cranes her neck forward a bit and abruptly decides, "Let's go say hi!"

She does _not_ care about these celebrities who never worked a day in their lives. "Are you crazy? I'm not going to push my way through just to meet a couple of billionaire playboys who happen to have tons of money and looks like Greek gods." There are more pressing concerns than meeting party boys, such as trying to have a bit of fun on her first night out in months. And honestly, Felicity doesn't understand the appeal.

She's about to say another scathing remark when Laurel unexpectedly appears, wrapping both arms around Felicity. "What's the holdup?" Laurel's cheeks are flushed from drinking and dancing, and now that she's being unnaturally touchy-feely it must mean she's had a few to drink.

McKenna comes from behind and stands next to Felicity. "Yeah, where are the drinks?"

"There's a holdup because Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn are here, and Jessica wants to say hi," Felicity explained.

Both McKenna and Laurel's eyes go round. "No way!" Laurel exclaims.

"We should definitely speak to them – I haven't seen Oliver in five years. He was always very nice to me when he would visit QC," McKenna casually mentions.

Three pairs of eyes are suddenly fixated on her, and she fidgets under their glances. McKenna never told Felicity she met him. "What? I've been working at QC for seven years. I was bound to talk to him at some point."

Suddenly determined, Laurel hooks an arm around Felicity's and Jessica's, tips her head a little up and declares, "We're going to go meet them."

"I'm right with you," McKenna pipes.

Sensing her fight is futile, Felicity sighs dramatically and motions for Laurel to lead the way. Her friend jumps a little, and everyone – minus Felicity – excitedly walk towards the boys. There's a small hint of nervousness getting to Felicity; she doesn't have social anxiety, but her unfiltered mouth often lands her in hot water.

The closer they arrive the more they realize it's impossible to get within a ten-foot radius. Needless to say Felicity's relieved, and she not so subtly suggests, "Maybe we should head back?"

"You are _so_ transparent," Jessica jokingly responds. She flips her ebony hair and breathes deeply, preparing herself for the big introduction. "We have to go. This is the one and only time we'll ever meet them, and besides, between the four of us they're bound to be interested in at least, well, me."

McKenna snorts. "Presumptuous much?" Laurel cackles and Felicity can't help but smile widely. "Let me introduce you three since _I_ already know Oliver."

"Lead the way, Your Highness," Felicity mockingly responds. Laurel and Jessica snicker but McKenna chooses to ignore it, and instead confidently takes them to Oliver and Tommy. The closer they get the more glamorous everyone seems, and Felicity feels uncomfortable surrounded by wealth and arrogance. They _are_ at an upscale club – if there even is a thing called upscale clubs – but she didn't expect people to take it so seriously. Her friends, however, don't seem to mind at all.

Soon enough they've gotten near to where there's a half-formed line to meet the guys. Halting her steps, McKenna motions for the girls to stay back and wait for a moment. There are only a couple of people blocking their way, but Felicity can't pretend she doesn't notice two very handsome men smiling and laughing. An abrupt thought crosses her mind: Oliver is, in some way, her boss. Wouldn't this be unprofessional?

Panic hits her, and without thinking she spins and worriedly tells Laurel, "This isn't a good idea – I work for Oliver's company! Meeting him at a club is unprofessional!" She glances back and thankfully sees the men are still occupied. "I can't do this."

"Why not?" Laurel takes a step forward and crowds Felicity, inadvertently pushing her towards Oliver and Tommy. "If you make a good impression he might mention you to a senior manager and get you a higher paying job."

"I don't need Oliver Queen, resident idiot and self-proclaimed panty dropper, to help me get a job," Felicity snaps. She opens her mouth to say something else when Laurel mouths her to shut up, grabs her shoulders and spins her right back around, putting Felicity face to face with the man she just insulted.

_Perfect_.

She's not sure if he heard anything she said. Nonetheless, her skin erupts in flames and Felicity finds herself unable to concentrate. McKenna side-eyes Felicity, silently telling her she heard everything. Guilt crashes onto her and all she wants to do is run away. _God_ she could be extremely careless. If she was worried about meeting Oliver in an unprofessional environment, then she should definitely be worried about losing her job. "Shit," she mutters under her breath.

"Mm hmm," Laurel whispers. She's absolutely done for.

As Felicity nervously concentrates on anything besides the two men in front of her, she hears McKenna shyly ask, "Oliver?"

Still focusing on the ground, Felicity's completely unprepared for a booming and cheerful voice. "McKenna? I can't believe it!"

Felicity's gaze snaps up and focuses on McKenna, her friend, hugging Oliver Queen. When they pull back Oliver beams at McKenna, and she finds herself zeroing in on their absurd situation and Oliver Queen.

He's good-looking – perhaps more than that, but she's not willing to admit it. The suit Oliver's wearing is pitch black but fitted immaculately on him. His stance screams confidence and arrogance, and Felicity finds herself marginally irritated. He's got a small amount of stubble peppering his very defined jawline, and his cerulean eyes, blaze with intensity. For a moment Felicity thinks he's not the vapid man he's reputed to be.

"I was worried you were one of my exes for a second!"

Nope, he's still as idiotic as he always was.

McKenna laughs and tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. Taking quick peeks at Jessica and Laurel, she sees Jessica trying her hardest not to faint, while Laurel calmly observes the scene unfolding despite the amount of drinks she's had. _If I could take a page from Laurel's How Not to Make a Fool Out of Myself handbook, that would be fantastic. _

Standing on Oliver's right is Tommy; he's got the same charm as Oliver does, but he looks much more casual and friendly. His hair is a deep shade of brown, his baby blue eyes glimmering under the artificial light. He's definitely the funny, but less famous, of the two. It's obvious Tommy looks up to Oliver, but at this very moment he's staring at Laurel as if she fell from heaven.

"How've you been?" McKenna inquires.

"Good, excellent," Oliver replies enthusiastically. "I'm having a some trouble getting used to American ways after spending time overseas." His eyes sweep over their little group and he asks, "Who are your friends?"

"Oh, right – that's Jessica," McKenna starts off as she points around the group, "Laurel, and Felicity."

"Nice to meet you." Oliver nods in acknowledgement instead of shaking hands, and as he does so his eyes touch on each person's face in turn. For a second Felicity forgets about the insult she blurted out, but once she does she blushes immediately. She still has no idea if he heard her insult, so she prays he didn't hear anything, but now that her face is turning in to a tomato she knows she's attracting the wrong kind of attention. Oliver Queen might think she's in love with him, which is definitely _not_ the case.

Tommy is the first to extend his hand out and says, "I'm Tommy, by the way." He shakes Jessica's hand first, then McKenna's, and when it's Laurel's turn he beams shyly. It's kind of cute how nervous he is to simply shake Laurel's hand, but her best friend – completely unperturbed – returns the gesture without a single afterthought.

Once he reaches Felicity she grins and says, "Nice to meet you, Tommy." He looks pleased with her response, and she can't help but want to give him a hug. He seems sweet.

"How was Hong Kong and Moscow?" McKenna asks. "I'm happy you're back, Oliver. Starling City hasn't been the same since you've left," she adds earnestly.

Oliver leans forward and says, "Thank you." He fidgets with his glass and continues. "It was . . . different, but I'm glad to be reunited with my partner in crime," Oliver says while clapping a hand on Tommy's shoulder and shaking him. They laugh simultaneously, and a little bit of Tommy's drink spills from the enthusiastic gesture.

Felicity's about to come up with a lame excuse to leave – this _is_ turning out to be exceptionally boring – but Jessica livens it up a bit and asks, "So you're not here to become CFO?"

She can't help but snort loudly; Oliver gives her a quick and puzzled look before he returns his attention back to Jessica. Leave it to Jessica to bluntly ask someone she just met if the tabloid rumors are true. "Uh," he begins, "I – well, it _is _my family's company, so . . ."

In a strange turn of events, Jessica is the one who made the conversation go into awkward territory, not Felicity. She's pleasantly surprised and proud of herself for not screwing things up. And, it seems as if she's incredibly lucky tonight, considering that Oliver has yet to mention her outburst.

"God, Jessica," Laurel says. "That's a corporate lawyer talking over there," she explains to Tommy and Oliver as she attempts to clean up Jessica's faux pas. Jessica simply shrugs and idly looks around.

"What about you?" Tommy sincerely asks Laurel. He's entirely concentrated on her, something Felicity finds incredibly charming, and for a split moment she can see the two of them being head over heels about one another.

Laurel takes a deep breath. Felicity can almost hear her thoughts, and she knows Laurel's still sensitive about not getting a job yet. "I'm . . . in the process of searching," she responds vaguely.

Tommy's eyes pop and he excitedly offers, "Oh, my father's company is –"

"Don't even bother," Jessica cuts in. "She's not into the sneaky and slimy world of corporations."

In an instant Tommy's face falls, but he recovers quickly. "Yep. Corporate . . . level stuff is . . ." He exhales and makes a hand movement akin to an explosion, indicating that corporate stuff is indeed stuff.

"Basically, he doesn't know how to tell you he knows _zilch_ about law," Oliver explains.

Tommy opens his mouth in protest. "Hey, I know some! Just not all," he replies sheepishly. Felicity quickly glances at Laurel and sees her crack a smile. Perhaps Tommy's ignorance will work in his favor.

"Well Oliver, Felicity actually works at QC as an IT consultant," McKenna supplies. She beams at Felicity, almost as proud as a mother, and adds, "She's one of the brightest consultants and researchers at your company."

A deep flush creeps up on Felicity's face. She doesn't like to brag about her talents, mainly because people didn't find it interesting, and she would rather let her work speak for itself. It's not that people didn't appreciate it, but they had a difficult time reaching the same level of enthusiasm as Felicity. It makes her self-conscious for some reason, and she chooses not to speak about it to those who wouldn't understand how _much_ it means to her.

"Oh" is all Oliver says. Once again he gives a polite nod, and Felicity can practically feel his disinterest. "Cool. What are you working on right now?" he asks.

Felicity gathers whatever strength she has left to smile – she can't help it. She's aware she's judging him far more than anyone else she's ever judged, but he _has_ been more attentive than she expected Oliver to be. Although she does not want anyone, especially Oliver Queen, to advance her career for her, Felicity can see he's serious about his company. And while she doesn't plan on seeing him again – employee or not – she _is_ proud of her work.

Taking a deep breath, Felicity begins, "I can't really get into the semantics, but we're trying to create a better and safer credit system for retailers. You know, so millions of people don't get their credit card information hacked." Briefly she looks around and sees everyone somewhat absorbed in what she has to say.

Now standing a little straighter, Felicity describes, "It's all very complicated, and the amount of money that'll go into making a two centimeter chip will be absolutely astonishing. Besides, I have to create coding that's impossible to break in the world of sophisticated hacking, but sometimes just for fun I'll hack into the codes my team created, and when I do break it we have to redo it. Not that I hack for fun – I could do it, but I don't. I definitely don't. _Especially _not at QC."

It takes her a few seconds to realize that _yes_, she did indeed ramble off and most likely managed to bore everyone in a minute flat. Even worse she admitted she and her team plan on using a lot of money for this project, something Oliver's probably not excited about, and she fessed up to hacking. Anxiety hits her, and she suddenly wants to bolt out of there for making a fool out of herself. No one wanted to hear what she was doing at work, "Sorry," she squeaks.

Much to her surprise, however, there's a small smile on nearly everyone's faces – even Oliver's. She's not sure if it's from genuine interest or they're simply trying not to hurt her feelings. Regardless, Felicity feels the need to apologize once more, but before she can Tommy cuts her off. "That's a really cool thing you're doing, Felicity. I just hope Oliver has enough money to give you all the funding you need," he jokes.

A chuckle emanates from everyone's lips except for Oliver's; he's too busy glaring at Tommy. To his credit he keeps quiet, but his eyes flicker around. He's probably bored out of his mind.

"If I were you, Oliver, I would definitely keep a tight hold of your money. Felicity has a thing for splurging on electronics," she hears Laurel say. Felicity frowns, because telling Oliver Queen she's a shopaholic when it comes to technology isn't the best way to make her boss feel good about his investments. "_But_ she knows how to take care of them," Laurel adds as she beams at Felicity. "Oh wait – except the one time she threw her Xbox controller at my stalker-ish ex, but she missed and it hit the wall," she recalls.

Planting a hand on her forehead, Felicity complains, "Not only did I admit to hacking, but you're making me sound like I have anger issues." She's not sure if there's a word that can adequately describe the extreme level of embarrassment she's feeling.

Felicity's positive her time spent at QC is finished.

Over to the side she hears Jessica say "Jeez" and through her peripheral vision she can see McKenna give her a suspicious look. Thankfully, McKenna tries to do some damage control on her behalf. "For what it's worth, Felicity is excellent at her job. But she does have a knack for eating all the ice cream and denying she had any part in it."

"That's it, I'm going to get a drink," Felicity says amidst a sea of laughter. Not wanting to appear rude, she halts her steps and smiles widely at Tommy and Oliver. "It was very nice meeting you," she says out of courtesy. "And I would never waste your billions of dollars," Felicity assures Oliver. Realizing she's making the situation a thousand times worse, Felicity immediately spins on her heels and doesn't bother to wait for a response – she _has_ to get out of here.

She practically bolts over to the bar, and once she gets there her midsection collides with the counter. "Ow," she mutters. She takes a peek over to her group and sees Laurel chatting with Tommy, while McKenna is engaged in a conversation with Oliver. Jessica, of course, is nowhere to be found. Crisis averted – somewhat.

"Bad night?" When Felicity glances up she sees a cute bartender watching her carefully, an amused expression on his face.

Shrugging, Felicity says, "More like I've embarrassed myself to the nth degree." She leans against the counter and smiles at him. "I tend to have that problem."

The bartender laughs a little and starts rummaging around. "For what it's worth, you and your group of friends have been talking to the _celebrities_ much longer than anyone else. Take comfort your embarrassment managed to hold Oliver Queen's attention," he says, putting things in perspective for Felicity.

"Well, my goal in life is _not_ to gain Oliver's attention, but I guess this means I won't be seeing him anytime soon," Felicity casually mentions. "Even if I work at Queen Consolidated."

The bartender stops making a drink and hands it to Felicity. It's a gin and tonic, something she didn't even want, but she supposes it's something she needs. "It's on the house," the guy says. He winks before leaving off to take care of other customers.

She takes a sweet sip and lets the alcohol burn her throat, but she welcomes the feeling. Not wanting to dance, Felicity heads back the booth they inhabited earlier, but upon reaching there she finds it occupied by another group of friends. Rolling her eyes and feeling tired, Felicity searches for another place to sit down but with no avail. Finally, she pathetically resorts to leaning against a wall underneath a set of stairs leading up to the lounge. It does, however, give her a great view of the club; in a minute flat she spots Jessica dancing exceptionally provocatively with another man, and McKenna is occupied with a man as well.

As Felicity works on her drink she spots Tommy making his way over to her. She automatically panics and wonders why he would even bother to talk to her. Step by step he comes closer, and Felicity seriously debates on running in any direction so she can avoid small talk. In fact, she wonders why he's even coming here._ I guess it has to do with Laurel._

Just as it looks like he's making a direct beeline for her, Tommy surprises her and goes in a completely different direction. When Felicity finally stops panicking and follows Tommy with her eyes, she sees him by the stairs talking to someone. And, as luck would have it, to Oliver.

Felicity's shrouded in darkness and she's safely tucked beneath the stairs, but she has a good visual on the boys. Stepping a bit closer, Felicity attempts to zero in on their conversation, because she's particularly nosey and particularly bored.

"Where are you going?" Tommy asks Oliver. His friend is already halfway up the stairs, but Oliver goes back down to converse with Tommy.

"Needed a breather. Besides, the owner of this club has a _very_ expensive bottle of champagne, and some really hot Russian models," Oliver says as he wiggles his eyebrows. "Join me!"

Tommy laughs and glances behind him for a moment. "You haven't changed a bit," he tells Oliver.

"Once a playboy, always a playboy," Oliver proudly proclaims. Felicity's mouth turns in disgust, and she wonders why she's even listening. _Ugh. _

"Yeah, I got that. I . . . think I'm going to stay back for now," Tommy says. He shoves his hands in his pockets and waits for Oliver's approval for some reason.

It takes a couple of seconds for Oliver to understand _why_ he's staying back, but once he does a grin forms on his lips. "It's because of the lawyer, right?"

"Well, the unemployed lawyer," Tommy clarifies. "She's smart and really passionate, although she probably thinks I'm an idiot."

"Not to mention really hot."

"Oh yeah, that's a plus." They giggle like children and Felicity rolls her eyes so hard they start to hurt. She hopes Tommy isn't doesn't see Laurel as a toy, because that's the last thing Laurel needs in her life. But, if Laurel didn't like Tommy she definitely would've let him know. Perhaps he's the better guy between the two.

"Hey, why didn't you talk to the other girls? They seem nice and interesting," Tommy suggests. He's relaxed now, but it's obvious he's anxious to get back to Laurel.

Felicity can see Oliver shake his head before saying, "Nah, not interested."

Tommy frowns. "Not even the employed lawyer? What about McKenna?"

Snorting, Oliver replies, "McKenna? No way. She's nice and all, but we're casual friends. And the lawyer spends too much time reading tabloids."

"Right. Wait, what about the blonde? The one that works at QC?" Tommy suggests.

Talk about unthinkable: Felicity and Oliver? What a colossal disaster. Felicity's extremely close to gagging at the mere thought of them. There's no way in hell she would ever be with him, let alone even entertain the thought of it.

It seems Oliver has the same sentiment as her until he says, "Too smart and nerdy. She's not really my type. And she talks too much."

He said_ what?_

If Felicity weren't currently in incognito mode, then she certainly would've gasped loudly. _Too_ smart and _too_ nerdy? It's an _issue_ for Oliver? She's not offended that Oliver doesn't thinks she's attractive, but if Oliver finds intelligence a nuisance, then it's a _wonderful_ thing he doesn't like her. And, if it's how he prefers his women, he has whatever coming to him.

Despite spending five years away, Oliver Queen is still the same brat he always seemed to be. She just – she can't wrap her head around the fact that Oliver has a problem with smart women. It's absolutely all right for him to search for a decent lay without giving it a second thought, but to completely dismiss a woman because she passed Algebra and he didn't? What a demeaning thought. She's had enough of him.

Annoyed, Felicity leaves her safe haven now that it's been spoiled by Oliver's comments. As she walks away, she realizes Oliver Queen is still a vapid and loathsome _boy_ who does _not_ deserve the CFO position at QC. She officially really, really dislikes him.

Felicity takes one final gulp from her drink and moodily thinks _What a jackass_.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Whew, this has been a long time coming! First, I want to send a massive thank you to the wonderful nocturnalwrites (NocturnalRites on FF) and awriterincowboyboots on Tumblr. This chapter would've been a disaster if it weren't for your tremendous help. I honestly can't put it in words how thankful I am to have you ladies. *sigh* You two are amazing! (Seriously folks, they're goddesses who deserve every single thing in the world.) _

_Second, pardon me for the long wait. I also want to thank each and every single person who's read, favorited, followed and reviewed. It truly means a lot. I don't write for my ego — I write for** our **enjoyment. So thank you from the bottom of my heart. _

_Off we go! (And pardon me for any grammatical mistakes.) _

* * *

"How was last night?"

An auburn mane slowly rises from the couch, and when Laurel finally manages to raise her head and peek at Felicity, she most definitely _can't_ restrain the bubble of laughter waiting to explode. Laurel is a complete and utter mess with her makeup smeared in various different ways, her orange dress lopsided and hiked up to her waist. Her hair has a life of its own.

In short, the sight is magnificent.

"Don't laugh," Laurel warns, her voice threatening Felicity many hours of torture if she does. In return, Felicity raises a challenging eyebrow and quickly produces her cell phone. Before Laurel realizes what's happening, Felicity's already got a decent picture of the sight in front of her, and she laughs when Laurel's face turns into the biggest scowl she's ever seen.

Her own stomach is starting to hurt, but Laurel looks like an absolute wreck. "I'm not even sorry," she laughs. "I can't believe Prim and Perfect Laurel looks like a glamorous version of Lindsey Lohan." Another bubble of laughter comes to the surface – she can't help but find her comparison absolutely hilarious.

"I don't even have the strength to be mad," Laurel groans. She does, however, manage to rest her chin against the back of the sofa before asking, "Did I wake you up when I came in?"

Felicity shakes her head as she heads into the kitchen, preparing to make a cup of coffee. "I was pretty knocked out." Once Felicity puts the coffee roast in the machine she asks, "What time did you even get back?"

"Oh God, I don't even know," Laurel moans. "I don't think I've ever been that wasted in my entire life." She sighs and sits up a little straighter, her eyes blinking from the light shining through the window into the living room. "The sun is making me nauseous."

"Your back is facing the window," Felicity points out with a roll of her eyes at Laurel's complaint. "You can't even _see_ the sun." The coffee's aroma is making its presence known, and in a matter of seconds the entire room is permeated with its smell, "At least I made coffee so you don't have to."

"I don't think I'm ready to have it," Laurel says. She exhales loudly and collapses, her body disappearing behind the couch. "Besides, I might have one more round of a vomit marathon coming up."

"Gross." Once the coffee is done brewing, Felicity proceeds to pour a cup for herself and one for Laurel. Felicity grabs the bottle of Advil, finishes putting in the appropriate amount of cream and sugar, and carries the coffee back to the living room.

She circles the couch to stand over Laurel's almost pathetic sight. Clicking her tongue, Felicity sets the mug on the table next to her. "You must've had a really good or bad night.

Laurel groans again and throws a hand over her eyes. "Good – I guess – but Tommy parties _way_ too much," she admits. "I can't even remember half the night," Laurel adds with a sigh. "This is so embarrassing."

Felicity takes a sip from her mug and pulls out the Advil from her pocket.

"Here, take this," she affectionately orders as she tosses the bottle towards Laurel. It lands on her stomach, but Laurel's completely unfazed.

"What did Tommy Merlyn do to you?" Felicity asks. She moves Laurel's coffee mug and perches herself on the table, watching with a suspicious eye. "Something happened. Did you get laid and not remember it?"

"God, no." Laurel dismisses the possibility with a wave of her hand, adding, "I wouldn't let anyone get near me – Tommy Merlyn or not – when I'm _that_ inebriated." She attempts to sit up again and frowns. "Where's my phone?"

Felicity tilts her head with a smile. "You mean the mess you left at the front door?"

When she'd woken that morning she was greeted by Laurel's shoes, keys, phone and purse littered all over the floor. She was half-expecting Laurel's clothes to be there as well, but it seems Drunk Laurel knew how to keep her clothes on.

"Oh. Right."

"Don't worry about it," Felicity reassures her. "It's about time you got out of your pity party phase," she teases as she brings Laurel's cell phone to her.

In return, Laurel rolls her eyes. Once she takes her phone and unlocks it, Laurel's eyes widen and she gasps. "Oh. My. God."

"What?" Felicity asks urgently. Did someone take a photo of Laurel in her drunken state? If that's the case, she'll need to take out her computer so she can start removing any obscene images from wherever they might be. "What is it?"

Laurel, still in shock, fails to reply.

"Laurel!" Felicity snaps, hoping to get her friend's attention away from the phone and back to her.

"Oh!" Snapping out of her daze she looked up at Felicity, and gravely says, "I gave Tommy my phone number and he texted me."

There's a pregnant pause as Felicity's breathing returned to its regular rate. "You had me scared for a second! I thought someone took a picture of you with a nip slip or something." Laurel gives her a death stare, which doesn't faze Felicity in the least. Laurel is more bark than bite.

Felicity sits down on the floor next to Laurel and tries to see the text, "Wait – why is this bad?"

Laurel closes her eyes and stifles a yawn. "It's _Tommy Merlyn_," she stresses. "Getting involved with him would mean constant partying and having paparazzi follow me. I don't think I'm ready to even be exposed to that kind of life."

Felicity finds herself agreeing - somewhat - although for the past couple of years Tommy has slowed down on his partying lifestyle. Maybe Tommy's changed for the better.

"Besides, he's not even my type."

_Here we go again_, Felicity mutters to herself.

Laurel is smart and beyond pretty, so she's always had men clamoring over her. Felicity can't recall a single outing when that didn't happen, but despite the attention, Laurel tended to play hard to get. No matter how compatible the guy is Laurel will find a reason or a way to let him go.

It's true she's had no time for relationships in the past, especially during undergrad and law school. Once Laurel sets her sights on something - no matter how small the task - no one can change her mind. Felicity admires her determination, but more often than not her stubbornness to follow through with her decisions causes her to stress out, and Felicity finds herself unable to help in those situations. Having someone other than Felicity to lean on would be beneficial for Laurel; she knows her friend needs someone who can provide her comfort in ways Felicity can't.

For now, all Felicity can do is try her best to convince Laurel it's time to have a little fun.

In Tommy's case things look a little different. Last night he was clearly attentive and nervous around Laurel; if he was a regular playboy then he certainly wouldn't have spent so much time around her, let alone text her the morning after. Sighing, Felicity decides she ought to tell Laurel the truth about Tommy.

"I don't think he's the guy you think he is." She takes an ostentatious sip of coffee to make Laurel wait. "In fact, I have evidence."

Laurel immediately perks up, but clearly thinks Felicity is bluffing. "Yeah?"

"Yep."

"Do tell," Laurel mocks as she slowly sits up. She finally takes her mug and sips her coffee, her raccoon eyes sizing Felicity up.

_Challenge accepted_.

"I overheard a conversation between Tommy and Oliver. When Oliver asked Tommy to come upstairs and hang out with Russian models, Tommy _declined_." Felicity watches Laurel carefully and doesn't miss her friend's interest pique. "What do you have to say about that?"

After a second, Laurel shrugs, indifferent. "He only declined because I was practically wasted and still wasn't throwing myself at him. He probably wanted to see how long it would take before I decided to sleep with him." She takes another sip from her mug and pretends this information doesn't affect her, but Felicity knows better.

"Okay, well, not only did Tommy decline an offer at a nightclub filled with booze and debauchery, he even said – and I quote – 'She's smart and passionate' and he was talking about _you_ instead his regular bimbos," Felicity adds. "Not to mention you got home safe despite being super drunk," she adds an afterthought.

Confused and stuck in her thoughts, Laurel replies with a quiet "Oh" as she stares at her cup. Felicity starts getting her hopes up, thinking Laurel might acquiesce and go on a date with Tommy, but Laurel looks up at her and deadpans, "I don't care."

"You're lying." Felicity places her mug beside her and crosses her arms. "Seriously, what's the worse that could happen?"

"I'd get in a relationship with Tommy?"

That's it – Felicity's had enough. "Laurel," she groans, "I'm not suggesting you two get married, but give the guy a chance – give _yourself_ a chance." Halting her thoughts and recalling the conversation between Oliver and Tommy, Felicity absentmindedly says, "I think he's really different than what we've seen."

When Laurel fails to acknowledge anything she's said, Felicity decides to go for the jugular. _I know a thing or two about closing arguments as well. _"Fine. It seems like you want to continue on with your pity party, which consists of watching movies and eating snacks multiple times a day. If you can't get a job, at least get Tommy Merlyn."

"All right, that was completely uncalled for," Laurel snaps, her jaw ticking for a second.

_Oops. Bad call_. Felicity scrambles to remedy her truthful outburst. "I just think . . . I think both of you could benefit from each other."

Come to think of it, she doesn't doubt that Laurel could make Tommy a better person, while Tommy could make Laurel get out of her very small box. Tommy is sweet and good-looking, not to mention fun. It's time Laurel breathes some fresh air and lives a little.

"Listen, I didn't mean to be mean," Felicity begins as she leans forward. "But I think you're being judgmental for someone who's proved to be the complete opposite of what you think of him to be. Give it a chance."

Laurel eyes her warily – she's still hurt from the pity-party comment. Toying with a strand of her hair, Laurel focuses on the ground, her face turning contemplative. "It's - I haven't been in a relationship in forever, Smoaky." Exhaling loudly and leaning against the couch, Laurel shrugs, "I don't think I'm ready for a commitment, if at all. Mentally and emotionally." She stares off for a moment, then focuses back on the ground. "I'm so used to being by myself . . . It's - it's easier, you know?"

"Oh. That's . . ." Searching for the right term, Felicity takes another sip from her mug and finally says, "understandable." Sitting a little straighter on the table, Felicity watches Laurel carefully; she's surprised by Laurel's admission and proud of her for being honest. Felicity doesn't know much of how long-term relationships work, but she knows getting back in the game can be difficult. Laurel's always had a bit of an independent streak to her, and giving oneself to another person is frightening.

Regardless, Felicity knows it in her bones that Laurel deserves some down time. She's always been the second mother to her family and friends, and incredibly selfless when it comes to being present for everyone else. Sure, she and Laurel have been extremely close friends and their friendship knows no bounds, but once more, Felicity can only be there for her in so many ways. They've grown, as well as their needs. Perhaps it's time to admit it to themselves.

Felicity takes a deep breath and smiles softly. "Hey," she starts off gently. Laurel glances up at Felicity, her black rimmed eyes soulfully waiting for Felicity to finish her thought. "You deserve someone who can make you laugh, hug you when you randomly need one, buy you snacks all because you briefly mentioned it in passing, and have someone who's willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. I'm not saying Tommy is the one, but I think _you_ should get a chance to indulge yourself, even if it's for a moment."

Comfortable silence envelops their living room as Laurel digests what Felicity said. Tapping her finger on the coffee mug, Laurel chews her bottom lip for a second and slowly says, "Fine. I'll text him once I take a shower."

Felicity claps excitedly and exclaims, "You two are going to be so cute!" Truth be told, she's happy for Laurel – the fact that her best friend is even considering the thought of dating someone is a rather big deal. She simply wants Laurel to have fun.

"Hey," Laurel clarifies, "I'm only texting him. I am not agreeing to a date."

"Yeah," Felicity agrees, although she has a feeling one coffee shop meeting will turn into several more. "Anyway, what did his text say?"

"Oh, he just asked me if I got home safe, and a couple of other things." Glancing up at Felicity, her eyes suddenly go round and soft, and she asks, "What should I text back?"

Felicity gasps dramatically. "You're asking _me_ for advice?" Laurel laughs lowly and dangles her phone, waiting for Felicity to say something. "Did you at least say you safely passed out on the couch?" she jokes.

"Yes," Laurel replies. "Then he told me to drink tons of water, as if I already didn't know." Laurel rolls her eyes to show Felicity Tommy's text annoys her, even though her lips slowly tug upwards from a smile she desperately tries to suppress it. _You can't fool me, Laurel Lance_.

"Don't be like that," Felicity admonishes. "He's trying to get the conversation started. If he asks if you're available for a quick café chat, you say yes."

Laurel puts up her hand to stop what she is sure will be a well-meaning, if unnecessary litany of advice. "I'm _just_ texting him." A smile creeps up on Laurel's lips as she grabs onto her phone. She begins to type when her movements are abruptly halted and she looks off in the distance. "Um . . ."

"Um what?" Felicity inquires. _Now_ she's wondering if Tommy texted her something risqué or childish. If he did, then Felicity's been proven wrong, and Laurel's going to gloat for days to come.

Laurel doesn't respond; instead, she stands up with such speed that her knees knock against Felicity's, crushing their kneecaps together with unimaginable force. "Ow!" Felicity yells. Her knees sting from the onslaught, and she doubts she'll be able to stand up now.

Before Felicity can snap at Laurel, her hung over friend is already heading straight to the bathroom, and Felicity's _this_ close to yelling at her when Laurel beings to gag horribly. _Yikes; she wasn't kidding when she said she might have to puke_. When her gagging echoes through their apartment, Felicity all but forgives her as she gets up and starts to make ginger and cinnamon tea for the vomiting.

It takes a while to get back in the swing of things.

* * *

It's Sunday afternoon and Felicity scrambles to finish her paperwork before the evening begins. She doesn't have much time to watch shows on an actual TV, so she continuously catches up in various ways. However tonight, when her favorite show is airing, she would do anything to watch it live.

Today is also the day of Laurel and Tommy's fated coffee shop date and it's been a good two hours since Laurel left. Felicity had promised herself she wouldn't hack into Laurel's phone so she could listen to their conversation, which would be a violation of trust, not to mention completely unnecessary since she can just wait and find out old-fashioned way.

Truth be told, seeing Laurel get dressed and head out the door made Felicity extremely happy. Laurel's spent far too many days lounging around and receiving rejection after rejection from law firms. Unlike Laurel, Felicity has had it easier - graduating from MIT with top honors means getting jobs right after college. She knows the rate at which lawyers get hired pales compared to those who major in IT, but she hopes Laurel will be feeling less disheartened once she starts hanging out with Tommy. Sometimes forgetting how to achieve life goals will inadvertently lead someone to it.

Felicity turns her attention back to her work, and it isn't until 45 minutes later when the door's lock starts to jingle. Anticipating what Laurel has to say about the date, Felicity drops what she's doing and patiently waits on the couch. Finally, the door opens and Laurel walks in, her face glowing and a shy smile forming on her lips. _She's happy_, Felicity notes with a smile of her own.

"Hey there, Miss Coffee Shop Date girl," Felicity teases. She watches Laurel smile once more and take off her shoes. "Give me the deets: what he wore, if he paid, what you ordered, and even the songs playing at the shop," she commands. Laurel doesn't respond, and instead comes over to the couch, flopping right next to Felicity. Laurel's positively glowing, and Felicity can't suppress the amount of happiness she's feeling. "So?"

Laurel rubs her palms against her jeans and takes a deep breath, "It was good. Better, even," she adds as an afterthought. Resting her chin in her hand she says, "I . . . wouldn't mind an actual date."

Felicity gasps. Excitedly, she turns and completely faces Laurel, crossing her legs pretzel style on the couch. "Laurel!" she squeals as she lightly slaps her friend on the shoulder. "That's amazing!"

Laurel laughs a bit and she tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear, blushing at whatever thought is crossing her mind. Felicity's entranced by Laurel's change in mood, behavior, and overall demeanor. This is . . . something. "Yeah, it kind of is."

"What did you two talk about? Did he invite you to a super fancy yacht party?" Felicity inquires. "Because if that's the case, we need to go dress shopping, and I'll do our hair." She inhales another bout of oxygen and continues, "I think black really suits you ever since you got lighter highlights. As for me, I haven't had a chance to wear the green –"

"Felicity!"

She innocently looks at Laurel. "Yeah?"

"It's not happening," Laurel deadpans. "We talked. That's it," she reminds Felicity. Taking a deep breath she admits, "But I _would_ like to go to a yacht party."

Felicity fist pumps the air and says, "I knew it!" They both laugh, and Felicity finds herself staring at Laurel. Her skin's got a bit of color and her hair is shining, while her lips are refusing to go back down to the perpetual frown she'd adopted in the past few months. "Laurel, this is really great news," she adds sincerely. "Whatever happens with Tommy . . . Well, I hope he gives you a great time."

Chuckling once more, Laurel muses, "Maybe I should get Tommy to hook you up with Oliver. We'll be the two BFFs dating extremely _rich_ BFFs."

Whatever happy thoughts and feelings running through Felicity's veins vanish into thin air. After Oliver's disparaging comments at the club, she's got nothing but disgust for him. "No," she responds back. "No . . . fucking way."

"Oh, come on!" Laurel rolls her eyes. "Don't forget, you were the one who pushed me to meet Tommy, and here I am today, having successfully gone on a date with _Tommy Merlyn_ and considering another one." She smirks and curiously asks, "Is it because he's rich?"

Felicity shakes her head and shifts her position on the couch. "It's not that. Let's just say I heard Oliver Queen say he's not interested in smart women. And he said I talk too much." As the conversation replays out in her head, Felicity's skin starts to burn from annoyance and anger. She's frustrated with herself; she should have left her hiding place as soon as he opened his mouth. Felicity wasted two minutes of her life on that man, and she intends on spending no more.

Laurel looks apprehensively at Felicity, but when she realizes her friend is telling the truth, she can't help but burst out, "You have _got_ to be kidding me!"

"Nope," Felicity affirms. "It doesn't surprise me. He was and always will be a frat boy, and he's definitely kept up with his playboy charade up since he got back." Wanting to forget and move on from Oliver's thoughtless comments, Felicity says, "It doesn't bother me. But if I have to spend another minute with him, I'm going to kill myself. Or him."

Mockingly, Laurel gasps and exclaims, "You wouldn't do that!"

"I would."

They laugh simultaneously, and when Laurel goes on to talk about the rest of her date, Felicity carefully watches Laurel and mentally notes her each and every smile. It makes Felicity bubbly on the inside, and as the night continues on she finds herself wishing for moments like these. Life is too short to let reality prevent anyone from achieving any bit of happiness.

* * *

A couple of weeks later as the weather gets warmer, Felicity finds herself wanting another break. Work has been tiresome, and to make matters worse auditors have started to trickle back into the office, bothering Felicity to the utmost degree. She's already extremely stressed out by her project and its constant issues; the last thing she needs is another problem to deal with.

After successfully lashing out at an auditor, Felicity saunters through the IT department's hallway and heads straight to the break room. If there's one thing she absolutely detests, it's having an auditor breathe down her neck and preventing her from working. She respects the work they do, but the amount of pressure she faces is immeasurable. And it's not even the end of the fiscal year yet.

Exhaling loudly, Felicity rakes her fingers through her hair – she curled it today instead of putting it up – and focuses on getting to her destination. She's so engrossed in her thoughts that she nearly bumps into Walter Steele, CEO of Queen Consolidated, standing in the middle of the hallway in his full glory.

"M-Mr. Steele," she stammers. She's completely caught off guard, not to mention it's a very, _very_ rare occurrence for the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company to visit the IT department. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Mr. Steele smiles at her obvious discomfort, and she finds herself wanting to hide in her office. He is incredibly tall and exceptionally handsome, and even though he's CEO with a gentle demeanor the very sight of him sets her on edge.

She's known Walter for a while now; he was the first person to actively pursue Felicity's talents right when she graduated college. Ever since he took over the company QC has been doing better than ever, profits are flowing in, and if it weren't for his good leadership Felicity wouldn't have the money to continue with her research. When Felicity was hired he was CFO at the time when Robert Queen was alive, but he had successfully taken care of the company and, well, Robert's widowed wife.

"Ah, Felicity," he booms. His English accent rolls off his tongue, smooth as fresh caramel, and she gulps. Even if he _is_ nice and not at all imposing, he's still her boss. "I was simply taking Oliver on a tour of the company," he says.

_Kill me now_.

Sure enough, Oliver appears from behind Walter, and her mood – which was currently on a high after dealing with the auditor – turns sour in an instant. She can't muster the strength to hate him at this very moment, but she truly wishes he could stay away from her sight. Felicity has no time for lazy rich boys.

He has the gall to smile at her, and as a gut reaction Felicity's face morphs into one of displeasure. In a moment's notice Oliver's face falls, and it takes a good two seconds for her to realize how big of a mistake she's made.

In any other occasion Felicity wouldn't have cared how she reacted to Oliver, but Walter Steele is someone she respects. Oliver is his stepson and heir to the company, and she all but voiced her absolute disgust for Oliver.

"Yes. Hi," Felicity says as she attempts to clean up her faux pas. Briefly, she glances over at Oliver and notices he's schooled his features and staring at her blankly. "Is this the last stop before you head upstairs, Mr. Steele?" Realizing she purposely left out Oliver, she adds as an afterthought, "Mr. Queen?"

"Yes actually," Walter says, unperturbed by her behavior. "But Oliver here is having some computer issues, and I suggested we talk to QC's finest researcher," Walter beams. He clasps his hands behind his back, smiles and leans forward. "Would you be willing to take a look at it?"

Felicity purses her lips and glances between the two men, and she finally notices a black Lenovo nestled in-between Oliver's chest and arm. "Definitely," she says slowly once she realizes there will be no snack time for her. "Follow me," she offers as she attempts to keep her voice from sounding displeased by the turn of events.

She's afraid she's failing in masking her dislike for Oliver, but once he smiles marginally she quietly sighs in relief; being fake isn't her strong suit.

She starts to turn back around towards her office when Walter stops her, "If you don't mind, I'm going to head back up to the office." Clasping a hand on Oliver's shoulder he adds, "See you at dinner."

Oliver grins and nods at his stepfather. "I'll try to get there on time."

Walter laughs as he exists the department, leaving Felicity with Oliver. She's dreading this entire conversation, and when she looks over to the side, some of her co-workers are staring at her. "Well, ready to get your computer fixed?" she asks. Her glasses fall a little, and since Oliver is so tall she's unable to see him clearly. _This is a plus. _

"Definitely," he responds enthusiastically. All Felicity can do is smile weakly and turn back around, and when she starts walking towards the main work station a bout of nervousness hit her. Not only is Oliver her almost boss, but he's also seen her in club attire and already listened to her ramble off in the worst of ways. She's not sure if she should approach this meeting as if she slightly knows him or doesn't know him at all. Bringing up their chance meeting would only make things awkward.

She's extremely conscious of Oliver's presence behind her, and she has a feeling her short strides are making him walk exceptionally slow. Not wanting to spend another minute with him longer than necessary, Felicity speeds up and doesn't hesitate to wait for Oliver. The pumps she's wearing painfully pinch her toes, and her speed walking is only making matters worse.

Gritting her teeth, she doesn't slow down. _The things I do to avoid him._

The IT department maintains a workstation for smaller issues, often pertaining to viruses or other computer problems the company's employees has. It's empty right now and Felicity's beyond thankful. She doesn't need prying eyes and ears, let alone spend an extra minute with Oliver Queen.

She finds a desk, flops down on the chair, and immediately turns on the computer. She's pushed her glasses back up and focuses on the computer screen, glad they've been updated and working at a fast pace. Felicity hears Oliver slowly and quietly sit down on the chair in front of her and he notes, "You walk fast."

_Only when I don't want to be around people like you_. Ignoring his pretty face, Felicity distractedly replies, "I just don't want to keep you in the boring part of QC when you have important things to do." She halts her movements and swallows thickly, unsure of how that sounded. Taking a quick peek at Oliver she adds, "Because you own the company and all."

Oliver takes a deep breath and watches her apprehensively. "No," he says, drawing out the singly syllable word till it sounded more like five. "I don't own the company per se, but my family does," he clarifies. He smiles a little, and Felicity notices a small amount of bags under his eyes. _Must be partying too much_.

"But you still own it," she states. The computer finally reboots, and Felicity automatically grabs Oliver's laptop and begins working without a second thought.

"I . . . guess," he responds lamely. Felicity glances at him above the rim of her glasses before quickly before resuming her work.

Once she plugs his laptop in and opens it up, she steals a few peeks at Oliver and watches him carefully. He's dressed in a sharp suit – expensive, no doubt – and sits stoically on the seat in front of her, his eyes darting across the room. She half expected him to be beyond arrogant and sit with his legs spread out, but quite frankly Oliver seems a bit nervous. He's less chatty compared to their last encounter, but that may be since he's not under the influence of alcohol. At any rate, she reminds herself Oliver Queen is not someone she wants to spend a single second thinking about, so she returns her attention to the sick computer.

Shortly after an awkward silence follows, and out of nervousness Felicity starts tapping her foot, knowing any moment now she's going to start speed talking because she has never been able to handle silences. Out of habit she presses her pen in between her lips, something Laurel had suggested to her ages ago and is thankful she is able to remedy a potentially terrible situation, even if just temporarily. Opening her mouth – no matter where she's at – always proves to be her downfall.

Clearing her throat, Felicity adjusts her glasses and takes a look at Oliver's computer. "Holy crap," she whispers under her breath, only to add a dramatic flair when the pen lodged between her lips falls and clatters on the desk.

His laptop is littered with hundreds of tiny viruses, and there's a particular Trojan that looks as if it's been designed and modified in the deepest depths of Hell. Most of these look like ones often found on illegal, foreign or high traffic websites not allowed in the States. She shakes her head; it's going to take a while to delete them. What was he doing to get these viruses?

A strong whiff of cologne fills her nose, and when she glances up she sees Oliver leaning forward, concerned for the welfare of his laptop. "Is everything alright?" His blue eyes widen and he watches Felicity intensely, gauging her reaction.

"Oh, um, yeah," Felicity assures him as she tries to brush off the concern. Warily, she glances at Oliver again and smiles for no particular reason. She focused back on the screen and mutters, "I wonder how many porn sites you watched to get these monster viruses."

_Oh no_.

Her fingers stop moving and hover over the keyboard, and all other movements, including breathing, freeze. A bucket of flaming embarrassment and fear lands on her, and Felicity is now in a position where she wants to cry, scream and run out of here - in no particular order. Hesitantly, she looks at Oliver, who has such an ambiguous expression she doesn't know what to think. Or what he's thinking.

And so she resorts to doing what she does best: talking.

"I – I didn't mean to say that," she begins as the words started to roll off her tongue. She waves her hand and laughs nervously, "I didn't meant to insinuate you watch porn all day. Not that you would because, you know, you're Oliver Queen."

She stops again when she realizes she's making the situation a thousand times worse. Her head starts to itch from embarrassment and she swallows thickly. Panic hits her, and Felicity desperately scrambles to fix the situation. "W-What I meant to say is you don't need porn sites when you're _you_ and you can get the real thing, but there's no judgment when it comes to watching online porn. It's free, so I _completely_ understand the appeal."

That's it – she's done for. Her career is officially finished. She can imagine herself poorly explaining to future employers she made an ass out of herself while she was fixing Oliver Queen's computer. _Well, I indirectly told QC's heir to the company he's a manwhore and watching online porn is perfectly acceptable for Oliver. So that's why I'm looking for a job._

A sinking resignation hits her, and all she wants to do was hide under her desk until the entire office clears out. Her skin feels as if boiling hot water was thrown on her, and she can almost feel tears threatening to spill over. Taking another deep breath, Felicity reboots her brain and counts backwards from three – a coping mechanism she developed over years of babbling. Adjusting her shirt's collar and trying her best to regain any sort of confidence left, Felicity hoarsely apologizes, "I – I know you didn't expect to come here and listen to me . . . say that. I'm sorry."

She's afraid if she makes eye contact with Oliver she'll see an angry and offended face, but to her surprise Oliver's got a bit of a smirk on his lips, and his eyes shine brightly under the florescent light. Her mouth opens once again to fix what she said, but Oliver gently cuts her off. "If it makes you feel better, no, it wasn't porn." Once again, his lips tug upward – seemingly of their own accord – as he adds, "I was wanting to watch a Chinese drama, but the only way to watch it was to download the episodes. And with it," he explains as he gestures to the laptop, "come monster viruses."

Relief hits her; she can't fathom the sheer luck she has sometimes. Felicity's positive if Walter was still here she would've been in big trouble, but seeing Oliver's known to be the jokester, it actually worked in her favor. At the same time, however, she really did insinuate Oliver sleeps around and watches porn all day. She still can't believe he's not angry with her.

"Okay," she responds hesitantly. "Didn't know you spoke Chinese," she notes. Oddly enough, Oliver's comments considerably calmed her down, and she's back to working on the computer, her eyes scanning for another potentially evil virus.

"Mandarin, actually," Oliver corrects her easily.

"Oh." Even though she's a MIT graduate and an accomplished researcher at QC, she suddenly feels ignorant. Since when did Oliver start speaking different languages other than flirting?

Another minute of silence follows, and Felicity does her very best not to open her mouth again. The office is quiet since many of the workers have now left for their lunch break, and right on cue her stomach grumbled loudly. A groan escapes her lips; could this day get any worse? From her peripheral vision, Felicity spots Oliver awkwardly looks around, his fingers slowly rubbing together as he pretends not hear Felicity's stomach talking.

She ignores him and her stomach, and after a minute she gathers the courage to say, "Aside from the various viruses, there's nothing too damaging to your laptop." Shrugging and leaning against the chair, she eyes Oliver and throws out, "I'll have one of the techs fix it up in the next couple of days."

Oliver nods slowly and presses his lips together while Felicity patiently waits for him to leave. After a moment Oliver suddenly smiles brightly and taps on her desk. "Thank you," he says gently as he rises from his seat. From Felicity's position Oliver looks like a giant, his strong and tall body hovering over her petite frame and tiny desk.

Watching him carefully, she wonders if he plans on having her fired, and nods tightly but doesn't say a word. Oliver smiled once more, but his entire demeanor changes just enough to where he looks as if something is up his sleeve. Before he leaves, he stops at her desk and looks down at her, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "And also, not all of the viruses are from watching shows illegally." Felicity frowns, unsure of what he means. She almost opens her mouth to ask when he shrugs, as if it's not a big deal, and casually supplies, "Sorry I lied."

It hits her then: Oliver just admitted to watching porn on the very computer she'd spent fifteen minutes touching. Without another thought Oliver winks and saunters out of the department, his steps echoing off the walls, and Felicity's back to wanting to kill herself. Disgusted, she wipes her hands on her slacks and shudders.

Having Oliver confess to watching porn isn't what she had in mind right for her lunch break.

* * *

"Felicity, you have no idea how amazing it was! I just – I can't believe how wonderful it turned out to be," gushes Laurel. She's still wearing her black dress and heels from her date with Tommy, and she smiles so wide her gums show. Felicity beams back in return, and she waits for Laurel to say something else. "I actually feel . . . happy." She looks off into the distance for a moment then focuses back on Felicity, her lips forming into another smile. "I can't believe I enjoyed a date with Tommy Merlyn."

It's eleven at night and Felicity has had an exhausting week. Friday is meant to be her relaxing day, but she had to finish up some documents, and she didn't get back until nine. By the time she did, Laurel left for her date with Tommy. They've spent the last thirty minutes talking about her date and Felicity's getting tired. Regardless, she's excited for Laurel and enjoys watching her friend excitedly tell her about her date, and not letting her unemployment prospects dampen her spirits.

Exhaling loudly, Felicity does her very best to stifle a yawn. She succeeds, and grins like a maniac once she notices another smile slowly forming on Laurel's lips, her eyes shining brightly. "You've got it bad," Felicity jokes. In return, Laurel chuckles and toys with the hem of her dress, her shyness and warmth bringing a bit of lightness in her.

Sighing deeply, Laurel tips her head to the side and thinks aloud, "You're right – I do." She wrinkles her nose all of a sudden and abruptly says, "Maybe I shouldn't be so easily charmed. He'll think I'm _way_ too available and take advantage of my unemployment situation."

Felicity groans and rolls her head to release some tension. "Laurel, he already _knows_ you're available. Being available doesn't make you look desperate. It just means you two will have more time to hang out."

"I . . . guess," Laurel says tentatively after a moment's thought. "I haven't had much time to hang out with anybody since undergrad, actually. I think this might be good."

Relieved and surprised Laurel is admitting to this, Felicity exclaims, "Yes! Word to the wise: I'm always right," she says smugly. Laurel rolls her eyes in response. "What?" Felicity asks, unperturbed. "Never underestimate someone who spends an incredible amount of time observing and finding patterns. It becomes very easy to spot the issues."

"You and your gosh darn patterns," Laurel jokes. "You know, I used to envy you when you would finish my book of Sudoku puzzles in a few hours, but then I would take the book and tell all my friends I did them," she confesses.

Shocked by Laurel's admission, Felicity lightly pushes her shoulder and cries, "You did not!" Laurel giggles and Felicity fails to keep her own laughter tucked inside. "At least I know my efforts didn't go to waste," she adds cheerily.

Raising her hand up to her forehead, Laurel salutes Felicity. "It was an honor taking credit for something I didn't do," she laughs. Felicity giggles once again before they slip back into a comfortable silence, and her mind - for once - isn't running in circles.

Finally glancing at the clock, Felicity says, "I think it's time me and my PJs are reunited for the night. I got back from work at nine, after all."

"Sure, go ahead," Laurel replies.

"Okay." She gets up and nods at Laurel, who's softly smiling and says, "Try not to wake me up before ten tomorrow. My brain needs a restart."

"Definitely," Laurel says quietly, her eyes closing halfway in sleepiness as well - or perhaps it's from being utterly content. "I don't have any plans to get up early either."

Felicity smiles warmly. "Glad we agree on that." She's about to turn around and leave when she suddenly feels the need to say something else, her mouth awkwardly opening and closing as she gathers her thoughts. Facing Laurel and grinning widely, Felicity sincerely says, "I'm really excited for you, Laurel. I hope he gives you every bit of happiness you deserve."

Laurel laughs heartedly, her eyes shining and her lips forming into another smile. Slowly, Laurel gets off the couch, her heels clacking on the hardwood flooring. As she approaches Felicity, she beams and wraps her arms around her, and Felicity naturally hugs her back. For a split moment Felicity thinks they're back in college, a time when they weren't weighted by adult responsibilities. Sighing contentedly, Felicity holds onto Laurel for a moment longer, her collared shirt wrinkling more so when she fiercely clutches onto Laurel. When Laurel pulls back, her face radiates from happiness and she softly says, "Thanks Felicity. It means a lot."

"You're welcome." Felicity quickly squeezes Laurel's shoulder before heading straight to the bathroom, and oddly enough Felicity finds herself _relieved_ of all things. She doesn't know why to be exact. Is it simply because she won't come home everyday to find Laurel moping around? _Jeez Louise, Smoak. Try not to be so selfish. _

Back in college Felicity was revered for her smarts - after all, not everyone attends a prestigious university - but MIT proved to be a challenge for her, a young woman with an impossibly bright mind. Being female in a male-dominated arena is difficult, and although she's become accustomed to QC's IT department overflowing with men, she still shudders at her time spent at MIT. Being a woman - and a woman who is sure of herself - was an odd sight for her classmates. Meeting Laurel was Felicity's saving grace; Laurel was the first person to take her seriously as a woman, and more importantly, as a friend. There was no competition with her, and still isn't. She's been immensely supportive of Felicity, and has provided her with a second family, love and laughter. Felicity wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Laurel constant support.

She suddenly feels ashamed for being relieved that Laurel's relationship prospect could benefit Felicity some way. She can only imagine how difficult it must be for Laurel to finally open herself up, and she berates herself for being so childish. Laurel has done an immeasurable amount for Felicity; the least she can do is be there for Laurel as she ventures into new territory.

Brushing those thoughts away, Felicity begins her nightly ritual in the bathroom, and her mind floats over to how different Tommy appears to be in person. Who would have thought Tommy Merlyn could be serious when it comes to relationships?

Unfortunately, the same can't be said for his _friend_.

* * *

Normally on a Saturday, Felicity goes to sleep no later than nine - working constantly takes a toll on her - but tonight she's wide awake as she idly watches TV. Currently, Laurel is on _another _date with Tommy, and she has a feeling it'll be a while before she comes back home. Shivering uncontrollably, Felicity snuggles in between numerous blankets, and adjusts her position on the couch, her short legs barely reaching the other end of the sofa.

Grabbing onto the blankets and bringing them closer, Felicity takes out her hand from underneath the blanket and flips the channels, her hand protesting from the lack of warmth. She stops at a couple of news channels and some movies, but nothing really catches her eye. Another few seconds pass of aimless channel surfing when Felicity stops at one of the local stations and sees TMZ playing.

And, as it turns out, the guest of honor appearing on screen is Oliver Queen.

_Really?_ Felicity's given up at this point; apparently there's no escaping Oliver no matter where she goes. TMZ is airing paparazzi footage of Oliver leaving a fancy restaurant from last night, and once he comes outside hundreds of flashes go off in a second. He seems unperturbed by the amount of attention, and he continues on his way, his bodyguard ushering him towards a limo. The camera shakes violently and causes Felicity to get slightly dizzy.

Tired of seeing his face and unwilling to endure another bout of dizziness, Felicity nearly changes the channel when a paparazzo loudly and rudely asks Oliver, "Where's your date? Did she realize she had enough of you?"

The other photographers "Ooh" at the man's comment and all goes silent for a moment. Come to think of it, Felicity _is _curious as to why Oliver doesn't have three woman draped around his arms – it's a common sight for the world to see. Instead, it's just him and his bodyguard. How odd.

Oliver stops walking and pauses in front of the cameraman, his blue eyes focusing on the man with such intensity she thinks he might burst. Felicity's watched and seen Oliver leaving nightclubs looking disheveled and out of it, but this time around Oliver looks in complete control, ready to take the world by a storm. His eyes glimmer under the artificial light, but for once, they're not glazed over with intoxication. They're brewing with careful and controlled intensity, and Felicity finds herself paying more attention to the TV than she initially planned.

In a split second, Oliver's demeanor changes and he smiles phonily, his bright white teeth reflecting and blinding the camera lens. "I told _them_ to wait for me once I finish my meeting_,_" he responds smoothly, and he winks at the camera before the paparazzo can ask a second question. The rest of the photographers whoop and whistle, and before Oliver ducks inside his car, he waves haughtily as he embarks on another night of debauchery with several other women.

Yuck.

* * *

Three weeks have passed in a complete blur, her busy job preventing her from doing something other than sleeping four hours at night and working until she's about ready to collapse from exhaustion. In a week's time she has to head out to Metropolis for a quick consulting job, then come back to Starling City to work on another project. She's getting tired, but she knows all of her hard work will pay off . . . sooner or later.

Currently, she's eating lunch with McKenna at Big Belly Burger, which is not to far from QC's building. She's already plowed through her cheeseburger and swallows it down with a cool soda. The salty fries are begging for her attention and Felicity immediately pops five inside her mouth.

McKenna watches her with a slight amount of confusion and observes, "You must've been really hungry." Her friend is clearly been taking her time to savor the delicious burger and judging Felicity as she does so.

Propping her elbow on the table, Felicity throws another handful of fries in her mouth and shrugs. After she swallows, she says matter-of-factly, "Girl's gotta eat."

McKenna chuckles and shakes her head. "I second that," she responds as she raises her soda in agreement. Felicity lifts her cup as well and takes a loud sip, the cold and bubbly drink reminding her taste buds of her college days filled with fast food. "But I have to lay off on the carbs. Except I kind of don't want to," she says wistfully.

Frowning, Felicity asks, "Why?" Gesturing at McKenna's body she says, "You look incredible the way you are." In fact, Felicity's starting to notice McKenna's been working out a lot lately, and her body has gotten stronger. "Are you planning on getting into MMA or something?" she questions. "Because you can be pretty scary without the extra muscle."

McKenna laughs heartily. "I actually have . . . something up my sleeve," she mysteriously says. Her bronze eyes shine from a secret she's holding back and she adds, "But I kind of don't want to say anything just in case if it doesn't work out." A stray piece of ebony hair lands on her cheek, and she tucks it behind her ear, suddenly shy from her admission. "Does it make sense?"

"Absolutely. Just promise me when it _does_ work out, I'll be the first to know," she commands. She takes another sip from her cup, wondering exactly what McKenna has in store for herself. Whatever it is, Felicity intends to support her all the way through.

"Yes ma'am," McKenna replies. She salutes Felicity and they both laugh. Another couple of seconds of silence follows through until McKenna inquires, "How are the lovebirds, by the way? Has Tommy bought her a brand new Mercedes yet?" She smirks at her comment and puts a couple of fries in her mouth.

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Felicity sighs deeply. "Don't even get me started on those two," she starts. Ever since the big date, Laurel has spent every waking minute gushing about Tommy. It's gotten to the point where it's all they – correction: _Laurel_ – talk about all the time, and Felicity almost dreads coming home. "I'm glad Laurel's having fun, but I just – I can't anymore," she says tiredly.

McKenna giggles. "I feel so bad for you. I know how it feels," she sympathizes. "When my sister started dating her husband, it was like living in a constant hell-hole filled with putrid rainbows," she grimaces.

"Well, it's not that I'm not happy for Laurel, but . . ." Felicity trails off and tries to put her thoughts in order. It's only been almost two months since they've met, but Felicity's getting the feeling Laurel's withholding some of her feelings. She's not sure if it's from fear and not wanting to get hurt in the event Tommy returns to his playboy days, or if she plans on having their relationship simply be a fling. Felicity is known for sticking her nose in places where it shouldn't be, so she's been patiently quiet whenever Laurel sorts through her feelings with Felicity. She wants to be supportive of Laurel's relationship, but until Laurel decides she needs Felicity to help her figure things out, she'll stay back and wait.

Shaking her head and wanting to change the topic, she says, "Laurel's a big girl and maybe this will be a good change for her."

McKenna smiles widely and raises her cup one more time. "To changes," she toasts.

Following suit, Felicity lifts her cup and repeats, "To changes."

* * *

"Where's my tablet?" Felicity asks, panicked. It's well into the night and she's hardly packed anything for her trip to Metropolis. Despite her flight leaving at seven in the morning, Felicity – for some unfathomable reason – hasn't packed at all. She supposes it's due to the fact she's staying in the States and not traveling for an international consulting job, but if Felicity's going to get lazy about something, it should never be _this_. She's certainly paying for it now.

"Got it!" Laurel shouts from under the couch. Getting up, she pads over towards Felicity, gingerly hands the tablet and sternly orders, "Don't you ever lose it."

Felicity dismissively nods her head and replies, "Sure. Whatever." As she rummages around for her other chargers and cords, she thinks aloud, "I need to get my act together." As of late Felicity's been slipping on basic things, such as cleaning her room and keeping everything in order. Her job is working her to the bone, and she's worried this trend will become a regular habit.

Laurel laughs and flops down on the couch. "You're being dramatic."

Glaring at her, Felicity pouts, "Why don't you try to work on _four_ different projects and travel all the time? _Then_ you can tell me if I'm being dramatic or not." Sensing she may have said that in a rude tone, Felicity admits, "Or . . . You're right, I _am_ being dramatic."

Tilting her head to the side, Laurel shrugs, "Well, you do have every reason to be stressed out. Plus our mini vacation had to get cut short." Eyeing Felicity, she jokingly accuses, "It's all because of you and your job."

"Oh _please_," Felicity shoots back. She sighs and says, "I really do wish I could cancel. I feel bad." Their vacation plan was never set in stone, but they had decided if Felicity had a free weekend they would definitely do something. Alas, work called and she currently wishes she could go upstate with Laurel, lounging around and tanning with no care in the world.

Placing a hand on her forehead, she begins to rub it as she suddenly feels trapped and fatigued. "I really need a break," Felicity moans. Her legs buckle underneath her from weariness, and she also collapses on the couch next to Laurel. Looking at Laurel, she pleads, "Can you kidnap me and we can go to the beach for the next five months?"

"Why of course," Laurel mocks. Upon seeing Felicity's less than amused face, she giggles and hesitantly adds, "Well, I was planning on going . . . somewhere." She tugs on her yoga pants and steadfastly focuses on them, and Felicity has a feeling it has to do with Tommy. "But I'm not sure."

Unsure of how to broach the subject, Felicity cautiously asks, "Why not? You have unlimited free time, you know. And I won't be offended if you _do_ go." She takes a few strands from her ponytail and begins to observe the split ends as she waits for Laurel to continue speaking.

Laurel takes a deep breath and thinks for a moment. "I just . . . I don't –" Frustrated, Laurel runs a hands through her hair and sighs once more, her thoughts refusing to align themselves. "I don't want to go forward with something if it . . . If it doesn't work out."

Ah, now she gets it – Laurel really _is_ afraid of getting hurt. Felicity immediately sympathizes, but from what she's seen thus far, both Laurel _and_ Tommy are head over heels for each other. Perhaps Laurel's nervousness stems from her lack of relationships. Diving head-on into a relationship can be scary, but it's impossible to know what _could_ happen if Laurel's not willing to try. Each relationship is different, and to hold back simply means it'll stay in frozen in limbo.

"If you and Tommy weren't meant to be, then I don't think you would be feeling like a love struck sixteen year old after every date." Laurel frowns, and before she can cut Felicity off, she hurriedly adds, "I think going on a mini vacation with Tommy won't hurt. And if you still feel this way after spending some time with him, then you can break it off." Adjusting her glasses and glancing at Laurel, Felicity asks, "What's the worst that could happen?"

Laurel's silent for a few seconds as her eyes glaze over. Watching her carefully, Felicity contemplates if she should take back what she said. When it comes to Laurel's personal issues, she prefers Felicity not say anything - she's always been the kind to keep her feelings to herself and rarely opens up. Her relationship with Tommy is certainly causing Laurel to confront her own problems and insecurities, but perhaps this will work in her favor.

Seconds pass, and Felicity's reached the point where she feels she _must_ say something. Swallowing thickly, Felicity nearly opens her mouth when Laurel abruptly glances up, smiles at Felicity and cheerily says, "I'll think about it." Standing up, she asks Felicity, "Do you want some mint tea?"

"O-Okay," Felicity hesitantly replies. Warily, she eyes Laurel and finds her change in behavior odd, and wonders if she should comment on it. _I'll let her be_. Whatever is going on with Laurel, she'll figure it out. Felicity can't protect Laurel from getting hurt, but she can help her reach a decision when Laurel needs her input. That's what friends are for.

As Laurel heads into the kitchen, Felicity suddenly wishes they were back in college when the only thing they had to worry about was not failing their classes. Back then they were a dynamic duo unworried about their futures together, and didn't let anything – or anyone – get in the way of their wants and desires. They were unstoppable.

Adult life can be _so_ hard sometimes.

* * *

Felicity's never been too keen on big cities. Starling City has the right amount of buildings and traffic to make it tolerable, but Metropolis is extremely noisy and smelly. She can hardly walk around the city without gagging at the pollution, and the lack of personal space causes her to flinch even at the slightest movements. Thankfully, she'll finish her consulting job today, then come Monday she's back to work in Starling City. She misses home.

Currently, she's heading back to work after grabbing a quick lunch at a nearby diner. Crowds of civilians nearly trample Felicity as she attempts to get back to the office, her anger blossoming when no one even bothers to apologize. Coupled with the Metropolis's rude citizens and polluted air, Felicity's having an extremely difficult time walking about in her four inch heels. They're continuously getting stuck in the cracks and crevices, and she's had gum get stuck on her shoes more times than she can count.

Focusing on the ground, Felicity treks her way back to work, and she's so absorbed on not falling over that she doesn't notice her phone ringing. Halting on the middle of the sidewalk – and subsequently earning a few glares – Felicity takes out her phone and moves to the side. It's Laurel who's calling.

"Hey," she greets as she steps further away from the main sidewalk. Plugging one finger inside her ear to block out the noise, she yells, "What's up?"

"_Hey!_" Laurel says. "_Are you outside?_"

A city bus drives by the moment she's about to reply, its fumes clogging Felicity's nostrils and causing her to gag. Once she gathers her wits she responds, "Yeah. I just got out of lunch and I'm going back to work." Hugging her purse tighter and preparing to walk back on the sidewalk, Felicity asks, "Why, is something wrong?"

She hears a faint "_No_" and resumes her Walk of Torture. She sidesteps and narrowly misses stepping in a puddle, and Laurel inquires, "_When are you coming back to Starling?_"

"Uh," Felicity begins, her mind and body entirely concentrated on not falling over. "I was going to take the red-eye tonight." She continues to walk towards her destination, but as she walks some more she sees a homeless man quietly sitting next to a trashcan. As she approaches him, Digging through her coat pocket, Felicity produces a twenty and promptly puts it in the dingy cup in front of him. "Remember I told you I was coming in late, and that you didn't need to pick me up because I parked my car at the airport?" The man barely registers her and Felicity proceeds forward.

"_Right_," Laurel says. "_Well, I actually went on the vacation I talked about . . . with Tommy. At The Hamptons_," she explains.

Felicity stops dead in her tracks once again, trying to process the information Laurel gave her. "Seriously?" Since when did she and Tommy go on a vacation? And more importantly, since when did Laurel go to The Hamptons? Last she checked, Laurel was hesitant to continue on with her relationship with Tommy – or so she thought.

Once again, people are giving her dirty looks for stopping on the middle of the sidewalk, so she resumes her movements. "Are you _really _serious?" A sudden gust of wind blows Felicity's carefully curled hair. "When did you leave?" She's surprised to say the least.

Felicity resumes walking when Laurel finally says, "_Yes I'm serious! I pretty much left right after you went to the airport_. _Tommy asked me to go and I took your advice. Aren't you proud of me?"_

"Definitely!" Felicity agrees. Come to think of it, this may be the first time Laurel has ever listened to her. She has to relish this moment before it goes away. "You do know I'm going to use that as ammunition ten years from now when you choose not to listen to me," she gloats. A smile creeps up on her face, and she's finding Laurel's relationship to be very beneficial for her friend - for once, Laurel is taking a leap of faith and enjoying every bit of it.

"_Sure, whatever works for you." _Felicity giggles and barely misses bumping into someone. She stops right before she embarrasses herself, and thanks Fate for not making her day any worse. "_But I was thinking: since it's the weekend and The Hamptons is only two hours away from Metropolis, why don't you join me?"_

Apparently, her conversation with Laurel is turning out to be full of surprises. She catches herself from halting in the middle of sidewalk once again, and as Felicity attempts to process the information she can't help but wonder why Laurel's asking her to join. "I – why would I? You're on vacation with Tommy, not me." Felicity nears an intersection and waits for the walk signal to turn on, her legs now aching from the fast paced walking and high heels. "And I already bought my plane ticket for tonight. I don't know how I would tell my supervisor I wasted 250 dollars of _QC's_ money so I could go to The Hamptons," she says dubiously. Why in the world is Laurel expecting her to drop everything and join them? Felicity has a job – an important one at that, not to mention she doesn't want to impose on Tommy and Laurel's getaway.

"_I know," _Laurel admits. "_But Tommy knows someone at the airport who can change your flight free of charge. All he has to do is call them," _she adds.

Felicity's just about to cross the intersection when Laurel takes a deep breath and prepares for the final blow. _Oh no_. Anytime Laurel tries to persuade Felicity to do something, Laurel usually has the_ most_ convincing final argument and manages sway her every single time. Felicity is immune to Laurel's counter arguments, mainly because she has a weak excuse ninety percent of the time.

"_We haven't had time to actually be together, and . . . I really want you to meet Tommy. You're an important part of my life, and I want you to be a part of this. Please Smoaky, I really want you to come."_

Perfect. Just perfect.

Not only did Laurel manage to bring up their failed vacation and lack of bonding time, she's tapped into Felicity's very emotional heart and used Tommy as an excuse.

Grumbling, Felicity stands back and doesn't cross the street; her mind spins in circles while her heart pumps loudly. What should she do? The overworked part of her wants to go so she can relax on the beach, and the loyal part of her wants to be there for Laurel. Felicity's never been to The Hamptons, and she suspects Tommy's house is large and has a decked out bar. She _has_ been beyond exhausted from work lately, and if Tommy can change her flight with no extra charge . . .

Groaning, Felicity presses the phone against her mouth and reluctantly says, "Fine. You win. But I'm heading straight back to Starling no later than Sunday afternoon."

Laurel screams so loud that Felicity has to move her phone away from her ear, but as her friend rambles off how excited she is, Felicity can't resist from smiling the entire three blocks it takes to get back to work. After all, a vacation is _still_ a vacation.

* * *

Laurel's phone shuts off, her left ear still ringing from the city noises that emanated from Felicity's end. Tossing her phone on the bed and collapsing on top of it, Laurel grins widely and can't contain her excitement. She kicks her feet in the air for a quick moment, her chest swelling as her mind rapidly plans out their entire weekend. She's starting to mentally plan their Saturday afternoon when Tommy's footsteps echo in the hallway, signaling his presence. Laurel props her elbows on the bed and sits up halfway, her legs grazing the floor.

As she waits for him to come, Laurel glances around her room - it's cozy and reminds her of a bed and breakfast her family stayed in when they visited New Orleans. The three of the four walls are painted a light beige, but the final wall where her headboard rests is a mix between a baby blue and turquoise color. The decor and furniture is, as Tommy explained, handcrafted from an Amish community somewhere in Pennsylvania, a place Tommy used to visit often with his mother before she passed away. She likes the room, but seeing that she's spent every night in Tommy's bed since they've arrived, she hasn't had much time to lounge in here.

"There you are," Tommy greets, his tall and lean frame covering the doorway. Laurel smiles warmly and drinks in his appearance; he's changed from his pajamas and opted to wear to a blue collared shirt with khakis. His dark hair is illuminated by the sunlight filtering in from the room's window, his skin glowing from the warmth. "What did Felicity say?"

"Felicity said yes," Laurel replies. Sitting up, Laurel pats the area beside her and motions for Tommy to sit next to her. He complies and the bed dips a little lower, the bed frame creaking slightly. He smells fresh and clean, his cologne lightly filling up her nostrils. _It even smells expensive_. "Seems like we won't have the house to ourselves," she says softly, a hint of flirtation lacing her comment.

Tommy grins and gently undresses her with his eyes. Laurel hadn't expected to sleep with him on this trip - in fact, they had agreed to have separate rooms - but she found herself unable to resist. It's been a week filled with lazy breakfasts, interesting strolls on the beach, and passionate evenings curled up naked by the fire. She's falling head over heels for him, but she doesn't want to stop. What she has with Tommy . . . She's never felt this _alive _before.

"We can stay here after the weekend, you know, once they leave," Tommy suggests. Leaning forward, his eyes glance down at her lips and he adds, "Then I can have you each and every hour of the day, take as long as I want . . ." His voice drops an octave, and Laurel finds herself entranced by his husky promises, her skin slightly heating up. "But for now, I'm going to set up the beer pong table so you and I can duke it out."

Laurel scoffs and pushes him lightly; he nearly hypnotized her with his sinful words. Tommy laughs before saying, "Hey, I have to speak to Doug ASAP, otherwise he won't be able to change Felicity's flight for free. I also have to make a few other calls, so if you want to head out for a bit you're more than welcome to."

She contemplates for a moment. "I was going to get some things ready for Felicity, but it can wait." Yesterday afternoon, she shopped at the grocery store to stock up on food for the weekend, and she bought enough food for at least three people. "Why, did you need something?"

Tommy shakes his head, "Nah. Well, I kind of . . ." He brings up a hand and rakes it through his thick hair, a nervous habit he has. Laurel's suddenly worried it might be serious. "I kind of invited Oliver over for the weekend?" Apologetically, he looks at her and quickly says, "He's really exhausted from work. I hope you don't mi-"

"No, not at all!" she exclaims. A bout of nervousness hits her and a large amount of saliva pools inside her mouth; she swallows thickly and tries her very best to look unaffected by the news. "I'm glad he's coming. I want to get to know him," she says sincerely. It's the truth, but she can't exactly tell Tommy that Felicity hates Oliver's guts when he's so excited about them hanging out. The possible clusterfuck is making her anxious. "You guys are practically attached to the hip," Laurel manages to say. "Like Felicity and I."

Tommy's eyes widen and he says enthusiastically, "Exactly! They're our best friends who need a small vacation, and I would like to know Felicity as well." He smiles warmly as he gets up, and a sinking resignation hits Laurel once she remembers how bad this situation might be. "I should go before I offend anybody by not calling them back."

"Okay," Laurel squeaks out. Tommy kisses her lightly on her cheek and leaves her room, his heavy footsteps ricocheting off the walls as he heads into the office. For a solid minute, Laurel sits perfectly still on the bed, her mind racing as she tries to find solutions to this problem.

She fails.

Letting out a shaky breath, Laurel woefully looks at her phone and contemplates telling Felicity that Oliver's coming as well. She knows Felicity's going to kill her once she finds out, but if she tells her the truth Felicity will never accept another vacation offer by her. This is their one and only chance to have fun . . . And if it means withholding some information, then so be it. Felicity's threats, which usually include hacking into her bank account and erase Laurel Lance from all the databases in the world, don't scare her.

All right, maybe just a little.


End file.
